And You Thought You Knew
by scholarlydimwit
Summary: You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll spray milk out of your noses. scholarlydimwit's best yet - an emotional, heart-wrenching story of an orphaned wizard. And You Thought You Knew about him. You don't know anything...yet. Parody of Sorcerer's Stone/Humor
1. The Plight of Albus Dumbledore

**A/N: 'Ello dearies...long time no read? I'm on vacation! But I'm not telling you where because I don't like being stalked. Anyway, this chapter is for my home skilly bisket, R, for bugging me to keep writing. Thanks, R. **

**This chapter would not have been born without you. I miss you so much!!**

**Sorry about the disappearing Romilda Vane story...I swear I didn't delete it. I changed my e-mail account, and all the chappies went POOF! And I didn't save them on my computer...yeah.**

**Moving on...here's a little something for you to read. Tell me what you think!**

**Disclaimer: **If you put an infinite number of monkeys in a room with an infinite number of computers for an infinite amount of time, they would eventually write the complete works of Shakespeare. But if you put just one monkey in a room with one computer for about five minutes, he could probably write a funny disclaimer. Which I cannot do.

I don't own Harry Potter.

**--The Plight of Albus Dumbledore --**

The poor old Headmaster.

You see, Dumbledore's inner being is not far from those of Petunia and Vernon Dursley - occupants of a quiet little house on Privet Drive. They led the _very_ ordinary lives of any respectable English family...Petunia, fastidiously (and quite unnecessarily) polishing her impeccably clean home...Vernon, working hard to support his small family of three...and little Duddykins, studying hard at school. Until -BAM! This cranky little baby ends up on their doorstep, demanding to be taken care of. What was more; the child was a raw, pureblooded wizard.

So much for ordinary.

To be honest, Dumbledore really couldn't care less about the little monster terrorizing his relatives. Until recent, when little Potter turned eleven, and Hagrid insisted that he should come to Hogwarts.

"NO!" Dumbledore had roared, "NOT IN MY SCHOOL! NOT HERE! I've seen the damage he's inflicted upon those poor Dursley's, and I WON'T have him here!"

"Bloody hell, Albus!" Hagrid had exclaimed, "Honestly! He's jus' a naughty little tyke...he can always reform once he's here. And remember - the lad's got no mum or dad. Be nice teh him."

"Nice my -"

"I'll bring him here at once, Headmaster".

OoOoOoO

As soon as he saw him, Dumbledore knew he would be just like his father, and his grandfather, and every meddling Potter before him.

The scrawny little shrimp walked in with the rest of the snotty first-years. The Headmaster could recognize him at once. His hair looking like he had never seen a comb in his life, his wide eyes and huge buckteeth rivaling only those of the bushy-headed girl next to him, and his expression - excited at the huge, orderly school - probably already scheming how to wreck it. He was holding hands with a Weasley. Potters and Weasleys always seem to make fast friends (Bertie Potter and Muriel Weasley were very close back in 1859). They're like nitro and glycerin, exploding everything they touch.

Feeling slightly faint, Albus tapped Snape on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Err...wait I forgot. Never mind."

"Ok."

OoOoOoO

Recovering from his lapse of memory, he tapped Severus on the shoulder again.

"What??"

"I seem to have forgotten again. Sorry"

OoOoOoO

"Aha! I remember! Severus?"

"_WHAT?!_" he screamed.

"Wait...I think I forgot again."

Snape screeched like a banshee and tore out his greasy locks by the handfuls.

"I'm sorry, Severus. It's just that your eyes...they're disconcertingly beautiful."

Snape turned his blood-red eyes away from Dumbledore.

"Oh yes, now I remember! Here comes Potter..."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Er...don't you have some recollection of the Dark Arts? Um, maybe you could inconspicuously use them to, er..."

"What are you hinting at, man?"

"KILL HIM, SEVERUS!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw, shucks. Well, time for the opening speech!"

Dumbledore stood up impressively. All eyes turned to him in awe for the wise words to be spilt from his sacred lips, guiding the dumb students of Hogwarts. His lips trembled with the effort of speaking such powerful, important words.

"Potato chips."

The roar of applause was deafening. Every student worshipped him; several changed their religion and converted to Dumbledorism. Others recorded every word he said, in an attempt to analyze their deeper meaning (so far none have succeeded yet).

Only one boy did not join the uproar. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Didn't Applaud, the Chosen Brat, gazed sartorially and doubtfully at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore, who noticed this, didn't give a flying broomstick about it. He ate his meal in peace and went to bed immediately.

OoOoOoO

Lying in bed as that dreadful day ran through his head, Dumbledore gazed fondly at the Scope-a-Potter on his desk. Now what's a Scope-a-Potter? It's a one-of-a-kind gadget (available only to teachers teaching a Potter) that lets you know what mischief that the Potter you are teaching is up to. Yes, the Potters have a long history of being troublesome. So on September 1st, every teacher in the school took out their dusty Scope-a-Potters, which hadn't been in use since James was at Hogwarts.

Cradling the brittle glass globe in his arm, he waved his wand with the other.

_Scope this Potter_

_DO IT NOW!_

_He's caused more trouble_

_Than a pregnant cow_

Although Dumbledore never really understood why an expecting cow would be trouble, he rather liked the stupid rhyme.

As soon as he said the words, the glass fogged for a second, and then cleared. In place of Dumbledore's reflection, was a scene which caught his breath.

**Review! I know that I don't really enjoy reviewing...it's like writing an essay after reading a book. Yeah, I'm lazy. **

**So it doesn't have to be a long review...maybe just a number from one to ten (ten being the best) or what I could improve on...anyway, thanks for reading!**

**JFYI, I update every Saturday morning. If you liked the story, put me on author alert because I might update before the weekend if I'm bored.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter: A Terrible Sight**


	2. A Terrible Sight

**Disclaimer: If I were richer than the queen of England, I sure as hell wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfics. Donownit.**

**A/N: Hey readers…thanks for the reviews! I got a lot more than I thought I would. You know, I just realized that I suck at writing anything other than something funny. Maybe I should give a serious fanfic a shot. I suppose result will either be the equivalent of a scandalous Kamala Das or an arid Wodehouse.**

**--A Terrible Sight--**

Harry Potter is cartwheeling and singing nursery rhymes down the dark halls of the otherwise very ordinary Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This highly inconspicuous scene attracts the attention of Peeves, the amiable school poltergeist.

M_ary had a huge dragon_

_Huge dragon_

_Huge dragon!_

_Mary had a huge dragon_

_Who ate her up alive_

"What a LOVELY nursery rhyme, Potty! I made one of my own. Want to hear it?"

"Not particularl-"

"TOO BAD! Ahem..."

_I see a Potty _

_Out in the dark being naughty._

_He can't do a cartwheel_

_Oh, how it makes my head reel!_

_His songs are worse _

_But luckily, they're terse._

_Now this ugly potty _

_Is sure to be caughty_

_When I call for the..._

_PREFECTS!_

_'Hey..."Caughty" isn't a word!' _thought the ever-observant headmaster as he peered into his Scope-a-Potter.

"Potty's gonna be caughty, Potty's gonna be caughty!" Peeves cackled gleefully as he sped away.

"SHUT UP PEEVES! You're going to get me in trouble!"

"Too late for that, Potter."

Harry whirled around to see Draco Malfoy standing behind him.

"Hey, aren't you that albino I met on the train?"

"No, I -"

"You're kind of cute up close."

"Well, I...thank you," Draco said, blushing, "Maybe we could go out for...er, coffee sometime?"

"Sure, I've always wanted to date an albino. I mean, can you imagine what our kids would look like?! I am the Chosen Brat, and you are (or will be) a Death Eater. I want to name our first-born 'The Chosen Eater'…ooh! Or maybe the "Death Brat'"

"Er..." Malfoy shook his head to clear it, "Anyway, you're in trouble, Potter!"

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"And who are you?"

"A prefect."

"Since when? Only fifth years can hold that position."

"Since my dad bribed the headmaster"

"Oh, ok...how are you going to punish me?"

"Nine-hundred house points from Gryffindor."

"What?! Ix-nay on that coffee!"

"Fine, eight-hundred."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Too disgusted to keep watching, Dumbledore jabbed his wand at the Scope-a-Potter and wailed,

_Clear your glass_

_Do it now_

_I'll punish that Potter_

_I'll do it somehow!_

"This one's going to trouble," sighed the headmaster, "Usually they wait for a week or two before they wreak havoc upon my school. But right after the opening ceremonies...the audacity of the child!"

oOoOoOoOoOo

Albus did not sleep peacefully that night. Tossing and turning, he dreamt that Harry and Draco were getting married and he was to plan their wedding. After months of hard work, Dumbledore finally finished, and the result was breathtaking. But the night before the wedding, Harry cartwheeled through the tent, knocking everything down. So, the next day, everybody had to sit in the remains of the shambled place. Just as the nightmare was about to end, Ron charged into the tent with his Aunt Muriel and an ancient Bertie Potter.

"I HAVE AN OBJECTION TO THE WEDDING! Harry, you were engaged to ME, see?" Ron held up a giant ring on which a spinning Scope-a-Potter was infixed, "Aunt Muriel and Bertie got married, and we need to do the same! Tradition, Harry, TRADITION!"

"If they got married, Ron, then we're related!" Harry sang, "And relatives can't marry!"

"_Yeah_, but -"

At this point, a furious (but toothless) Hermione Granger stomped into the tent with decaying buckteeth in one hand, and a long parchment in the other.

"Gay marriages are against the 567th wizardry penal code and -"

"You're lying through your teeth!" yelled Malfoy.

"I DON'T HAVE ANY!" roared Hermione hurling the buckteeth at his face.

"SILENCE! EXPECTO PATRONUM!!" Dumbledore screamed, as a greasy-haired zebra (with disconcertingly beautiful red eyes) burst from his wand and trampled everyone in the tent.

Albus smiled in his sleep and turned over.

**A/N: Read+Review, my precious! Tell me what you love, like, dislike, or hate with a burning passion!**

**Yes, I know I posted earlier than I was supposed to, but the reviews just get me so excited! Chappie 3 is pretty funny stuff...so don't go away!**

**Stay tuned folks! We'll be back next week with Chapter 3: Firebolts and Firewhisky!**


	3. Firebolts and Firewhisky

**A/N: Hmm…I don't really have anything to say, I guess. Oh yeah, Romilda Vain is back! This was my first story, but it disappeared for some reason. I reposted! Check my account to read it! It's really funny! (or so R says)**

**Disclaimer: Harry isn't mine.**

**Ginny Weasley: That's right, he's totally mine.**

**JKR: You're both idiots. He's legally mine (holds up copyright).**

**Ginny: Back off, hussy! He's not yours in the name of law unless you're married to him!**

**JKR: I **_**created**_** him, sistah!**

**Ginny: Whoa…you're his mom? And you want to be married to him? Sicko.**

**JKR: NO! Rawr!**

_**(Ginny and JKR get in huge catfight)**_

**scholarlydimwit: -ahem- as I was saying, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**--Firebolts and Firewhisky--**

"Come on, now! Say it with me children...UP!" Madam Hooch cried.

"DOWN!"

"HORIZONTAL!"

"78!"

"BANANA!"

"Well you're all very bright," Harry said drolly, "But let me show you buffoons how it's done...UP!"

At once, the Firebolt at his feet zoomed up to his hand.

"Excellent, Potter! 10 house points to Gryffindor!"

"Hey, Coach!" Malfoy called, "How come Potter gets a Firebolt, while the rest of us get beat-up Comets?"

"He's _Harry Potter_, you ignorant albino," Madam Hooch said gruffly, "I think anyone who can survive an Avocado Kedavara curse cast by the Dark Lord deserves a ruddy good broomstick!"

"That's not fair!"

"Isn't it _Avada_ Kedavara?"

"Only Death Eaters call You-Know-Who the 'Dark Lord'"

"Is Hooch a Death Eater?"

"AAAAH!"

"Shut up, you lot," snarled Harry, "It's true that I am greatness personified, and therefore I obviously deserve better than all of you!"

"Wow, he's so modest."

"Just like Dumbledore!"

"That's right," barked Madam Cooch, "Potter! You are Gryffindor's new seeker!"

"Why, because he can lift a broomstick?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you, Coach" Harry simpered, flashing a smile wide enough to be worthy of Gilderoy Lockhart, "Well, that was a tough day! I'm off to bed!"

"It's 2:30 in the afternoon, Potter."

"I need my sixteen hours of beauty sleep."

Hateful glares followed Harry Potter as he pranced off the field like a haughty ballerina.

oOoOoOoOo

On his way up to the common room, Harry met Hermione Granger on the staircase.

"Hey baby, how 'bout we get together some time?"

"Sorry," Hermione sniffed, turning her nose up, "I already have my eye on Ron."

"That's ok, I do too. You don't think he'll mind being SHARED, will he?"

"Probably not, but _I _will," scoffed the disgusted Hermione, "And I only interact with persons of a large intellectual capacity...and that means NOT YOU.

Harry stomped up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was eating a burger.

"Ohhh, I do wish I had something to eat right now," she belched, licking the remains of the burger off her fingers, "My good man, do you happen to have victuals that would be convenient to share with me?"

"Here, try this," Harry grumbled, chucking his shoe at her huge face.

"Mmmm...oh, ungh...it's delicious," she grunted, taking a bite out of the sneaker, "What is the composition of this worthy delicacy?"

"I dunno...rubber?"

"Ravishing," she burped, swinging aside to let him in, "You may enter."

"Fatso..." he mumbled, stepping through the hole and into the stuffy common room.

"Heeeyyyy, mate!" blubbered a very drunk Ron, thumping Harry on the back and dribbling Firewhisky down his Canons shirt.

"Hello, beautiful," murmured Harry, fingering Ron's ginger locks, "Have you been into my wine cupboards again, darling?"

"Maybehh...why did you bring a shtinkin wINe cupboard to shchool anyway?

"Whatever...we need to get down to business."

"Wha' busy-ness? No busy-ness ish gOOod busy-ness. Looksh like monkey busy-ness to mey! Heh heh..."

"Gryffindor is in the negative house points thanks to my little escapade last night. Now, honestly - I don't care who wins the ruddy house cup, but these buffoons - " he gestured to the occupants of the common room," - do. They all adore me and I would hate to make them angry."

"I'm pahsshive aggreshive!"

"I DON'T REALLY CARE, RONNIE-KINS!!" Harry screamed, passionately ripping out Ron's hair, "I need to get more housepoints!"

"Der...maybeh puttin' housshh points in the vials?"

"Hmm...the glass vials in the Great Hall use grains of sand to count points..."

"Sho shtick shome SHAND in dem..."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard,"Harry screwed up his face in concentration, "Hmmm...wait, I KNOW! Let's stick some shand - I mean, sand in the vials!"

"Thatshh what I -"

"SHUT UP!"

**A/N: Sorry about the rather short chappie...Did you like the Fat Lady? She's going to make more appearances! :D**

**nEXT WEEk: Verbally Vexed**


	4. Verbally Vexed

**Disclaimer: Doughnut, Donownit**

**--Verbally Vexed --**

"BONG!"

The grandfather clock struck exactly once - the indication that the first hour of the new day had arrived. All was quiet within the statuesque castle known to those select folk with magic coursing through their veins as Hogwarts, the best (and only) school of witchcraft and wizardry in all of England. There are other such schools of magic throughout Europe: Durmstrang...

"Beauxbatons! Oh, to be at Beauxbatons!" groaned the much-revered headmaster of Hogwarts, as he picked his way through the maze of corridors at his school, "Such a nice, quiet school...with even nicer, quieter students!"

As he descended into the lowest level of the school, the windows depleted in size, and the hallway was soon pitchblack.

"_Lumos_" he whispered, and his wand he held aloft glowed white.

Wait…the most powerful wizard on the planet can't do a non-verbal spell?

"Of course I can!" Albus hissed angrily, glaring upwards at the heavenly, melodious voice that narrated his life, "But if I didn't say it, how would the reader know what spell I was doing?"

Right, Riiiight…anyway, Dumbledore finally reached the dungeon door, and proceeded to pound on it furiously.

"Severus?"

"Er…coming," Severus sounded strange.

"HURRY UP, GREASEBALL!"

"I SAID I'M COMING, YOU OLD GASBAG!"

"What?" Dumbledore gasped.

"I mean…coming, oh venerable one."

Finally Severus cracked the door open.

"Yes?"

"Aren't you going to let me in?"

"Um…I'm not sure that's possible…"

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore sighed, and shoved the door open.

For the second time that week, Dumbledore had a near heart-attack.

**A/N: Sorry…that was a REALLY short chappie…I wanted to post sooner. Plus, that was an awesome cliffy right there.**


	5. The Nocturnal Dancer

Disclaimer: Je n'ai pas 'Arry Potter (Okay, strictly speaking, " 'Arry" isn't French, but Fleur says it that way, right

**Disclaimer: Je n'ai pas 'Arry Potter (Okay, strictly speaking, " 'Arry" isn't French, but Fleur says it that way, right?)**

**--The Nocturnal Dancer--**

Right there, before Dumbledore's bespectacled, periwinkle eyes stood Severus Snape.

No, not just _any_ Severus Snape, but this Severus Snape before him was one of the seven wonders of the world…right up there with Stonehenge and Giza.

A Severus Snape in nothing but hotpants and an afro.

Dumbledore wondered whether to congratulate him for gettin' jiggy with it, or to scream for a defibrillator and a hospital gurney.

"Snape? Is that you?"

For the first time in his life, Snape's pallid face blushed to the roots of his greasy hair.

"Uh…yes. I told you this was a bad time."

"But -"

"There's a good explanation for this."

"I don't think there's anything that will justify this," Dumbledore turned to leave, feeling _his_ face grow warm.

"Wait!" Snape turned a lovely shade purple.

"You have the uniquely unobtainable qualities of a chameleon," Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, "I'm intrigued."

"Fine. Okay, well…my mother, er…unghtwhitryfdh…."

"What?"

"My mother," Snape cleared his throat, "Was angry at my father, so she deicided to teach him a lesson and cheat on him with a bat."

"A –"

"Yes, a bat," Snape colored green, "And I am the product of my mother's extra-marital affair with a - "

"With a flying mammal?!" Dumbledore looked horrified.

"Basically. So I, like my biological father, am nocturnal."

"So _that's_ why you're cranky and mean during the day! What do you do at night?"

"I…party."

"Ok…"

"Yeah."

"Anyway, the reason I'm here," Dumbledore continued uncomfortably, "Is because Filch came to my dormitory at midnight tonight."

"OooOOOoooh….I didn't know you were THAT kind of guy, Albus!" Snape giggled.

"Shut up!" Dumbledore snapped, "He came with two students who had vandalized school property."

"Potter and Weasley?"

"Who else?" Dumbledore huffed angrily.

"What is it this time?"

"They broke the Gryffindor glass vial, and were pouring a 'dangerous substance' into it, according to Filch."

"…sand?"

"They try every year," Albus sighed, "What was more, Weasley was drunk."

"What did you do?"

"What could I do? I took housepoints from them."

"That'll teach 'em."

"No, it won't"

Snape, who was fiddling with his afro, looked up, surprised.

"It won't?"

"No. That's why I came to you."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"KILL THEM, SEVERUS!"

"We've had this conversation before, Albus."

"So what's your answer?"

"NO!" Snape screamed, looming over Dumbledore.

"…Hey, you're kind of cute up close."

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Colin Creevey loved his camera.

He would spend hours in his caressing, cuddling, and kissing it.

"Call me weird," he would squeak, "But I honestly think I'm in love!"

We'll be back with more footage of the engagement ring taped to the camera.

Anyway, Colin was scurrying down the hall with his camera, squeaking in delight every time he took a picture. As he passed the dungeon door, he peered through the keyhole. Strange things happened in there. Sometimes, he could see Snape disco-dancing in an afro and hotpants.

Colin gasped. What he saw was even better.

Click, Click, Click.

**A/N: How did you like the chapter? Tell me what you think about the story's perceptive changing. Like I didn't show Harry and Ron actually breaking into the vials, but I had Dumbledore telling Snape about it. Is it confusing? Annoying? Interesting? **

**This chapter was dedicated to the shopkeeper at Kalliasseri. Sorry about the bangles.**


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